A Christmas Poem by Rob Lindquist Nineteen fifty-three Christmas time, you see. I was all alone; No one to play with me. I heard a car drive up And saw my prospects rise, For in the car was cousin Mark With sparkles in his eyes. For Mark was very, very bright. He had some fancy toys. The train he’d got the year before Just mystified us boys. Mark knew how to run it; Steam it up and gun it. He’d turn a knob and get that train To fly “a mile a minute”. T’was back in ‘fifty-three That he came to visit me. Quick, up the stairs we flew To a
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